


I Won't Let You Die

by ChocolateChipMaster



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Whump, Platonic Sheith, Prompt: Taking the Bullet, Protective Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 00:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: Keith didn't ask to be roped into another planet's problems. In fact, he'd woken up that morning in a sour mood and it had persisted well throughout the day. Maybe it had something to do with a jibe Lance had thrown at dinner the night before. Or maybe, just maybe this whole planet was bullshit.Especially since he was only one that noticed the sniper aiming for Shiro.





	I Won't Let You Die

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'taking the bullet' square on my bingo card! 
> 
> Anon Requested: Could you do "taking the bullet" for Keith with Shiro but maybe Shiro doesn't realize at first?
> 
> God, I love Keith and Shiro's relationship and I also love exploiting it for angst. 
> 
> Let's go! 
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me.
> 
> Enjoy!

Getting shot wasn’t as painful as Keith thought it would be.

He expected theatrics. A blossoming, unbearable pain as he writhed and screamed on the ground because _god damn that hurts._

But honestly? Keith was really just numb.

He grunted, pressing his hand firmly to his gut to try and stem the flow of blood. Right now, Keith was sure that the lack of pain had something to do with the adrenaline still coursing through him, keeping him awake and aware. He wasn’t complaining and instead chose to thank the little mercies as he awaited the inevitable agony.

Keith shifted again. He didn’t really feel the bullet enter, but he could sure as hell feel it _there._ Lodged in some organ in his gut, probably. He didn’t know which one. He wasn’t sure he really cared.

He didn’t regret getting shot, either. He did it for Shiro, which is something he would _never_ regret.

The planet they were on was near suffocating, a discombobulated mess where half of it was bare desert and the other half was a thick rainforest, splitting it right down the middle. A harmony to the melody.

Keith really just thought the whole planet was bullshit. One moment he was swamped with heat, sweating through his flight suit and pouring sand out of his boots. The next he was checking for leeches in the god-awful humid air and stomping through a marshy undergrowth. He probably smelled rancid, too.

The planet they were on was currently in the middle of a huge struggle. The rebels - with their base of operations on the half of the planet with rainforests - were battling fiercely against their Galra occupants who held power over the desert half. It was like a civil war, if the power the rebels were trying to overthrow was only a very small part in the much, _much_ bigger Empire. But this planet was already stupidly complicated enough (the mere geography had Pidge and Hunk scratching their heads within the first five minutes) so Keith wanted to keep things simple.

Voltron had gotten roped in after the rebels sent out a distress call. Allura had answered, they’d raced over to the planet, and had almost instantly engaged in battle. The Lions were too risky to use. Too many people clashing. They might hit one of their own. So the Paladins went down with bayards in hand and praying that Lance hadn't used up all the hot water that morning.

Keith had Shiro's back a few feet away, slicing with his broadsword at a mindless sentry that had crossed his path. He’d cut it down and caught the glint of a sniper rifle high above.

At that moment, Keith both blessed and cursed his Galra heritage. Had he not been born with enhanced eyesight, he would have most certainly missed the sniper and the angle they were taking.

The scope was aimed directly at Shiro.

There was no time to _think._ There was only time to _act_ and _react._

So he did.

The sniper took the shot. Keith jumped in the way.

There was enough space between Keith and Shiro that Keith didn’t have to shove him dramatically out of the way like he’d seen in every movie ever. All he had to do was take a few large steps to his right and he was directly in the sniper’s path. He did just that. 

And in the moments before he was shot, Keith mentally flipped the sniper the bird.

Shiro’s back was turned when the bullet connected. He didn’t hear Keith grunt, too engaged in his own battle. He didn’t hear Keith hit the ground, the bloody hole torn in his abdomen.

Nobody did.

The battle kept raging around Keith, but he was deaf to it like they were to him. Shiro went charging away after his retreating opponent. Keith rolled over to hopefully avoid another shot from the sniper who was likely taking aim at their downed prey. It wasn’t their original intended target, but Keith was sure that they didn’t care.

With one arm dug into the desert sand, the other protectively over the bullet wound, Keith dragged himself pitifully behind cover. Ancient desert ruins that eroded away years ago, leaving nothing but long forgotten memories covered the battlefield. The outside of the nearest one was peppered with bullet holes as Keith dragged himself in. The sniper - if they were still looking at him - would have to reposition if they wanted to get another shot at him.

The structure was maybe a kind of fort at some point, but now it was just a half-crumbled ruin. Keith was shielded from three sides here, with the rock falling apart mostly at his left and right, but it protected him. That was what mattered.

Keith hissed, angling himself into a better position to assess his injury. He couldn’t get a good visual on it, as the torn fabric of his flight suit got in the way, but he could tell it was wet with blood. Sand speckled the outside, coagulating with blood and not doing any favors for the gross factor in all of this. He gripped the wound with one hand, the other trying to radio for help.

He found out, very quickly, that his comms did not like the desert interference. When he turned them on, he was greeted with a wash of static, interspersed with his teammates' voices. It would be of no help to him.

Swearing under his breath, Keith switched off the comms and readjusted himself. Blood was now rolling off of his stomach, dripping onto the sand. It turned every individual grain a gross scarlet, spreading as if Keith had just pressed a cloth to water. It made the injury look even worse.

“Shit, _shit,”_ Keith swore, trying to think straight. It was hard with things in the state that they were. His comms were out, he was shot in the abdomen, and the person he’d taken the bullet for hadn’t even noticed.

How fucking _wonderful._

On the bright side, though, it appeared the Galran forces were retreating to fight another day. He watched a commander and their squad scramble over a dune and disappear. Or maybe he’d just be decimated and was going back for reinforcements. Keith really couldn’t tell.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off. Keith was starting to feel the pulse of his organs around the bullet lodged inside of him. It was not a pleasant sensation.

He shifted again, trying to get more comfortable before the real pain hit him. He shifted the tiny dunes as he moved, sand that was clumped together by blood rolling into sickening balls. Keith looked out beyond at the battle and realized with a jolt in his stomach he’d made a trail.

Blood followed him into the ruins. Not a huge, obvious trail, but enough blood that it made him dizzy. It was all over the sand, over the crumbling entrance where Keith had all but rolled inside. Keith shifted and actually gasped in pain at the feeling of the bullet ripping further inside of him.

Oh yeah. The adrenaline was _definitely_ wearing off now.

He needed help. Fucked up comms or no, Keith needed to get the message across.

He shifted his good hand to turn on the comms again. The loudness of the static made him wince.

“G-Guys,” he sounded breathless and weak. He hated how it sounded, and hated asking for help even more, but knew that this was best if he was ever going to get off this god-forsaken planet alive. “Guys I-I need-” He grunted as another wave of pain and nausea hit him all at once. “I n-need help.”

He hoped at least the _help_ part got through as he listened to the garbled voices of Pidge and Lance trying to communicate with each other. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of the pulsing pain starting to take a turn into pure _agony._

“-eith!”

Was that the last half of his name? Keith really wasn’t sure. He tried to concentrate, but with the adrenaline gone and the pain kicking in, he was seriously debating curling up and taking a nap. Maybe it'd all be gone by the time he woke up. 

The garbled voice that kept talking, sounding panicked, had a deep voice. Calming and brotherly. Definitely Shiro. Keith kept trying to listen to him.

“..ere...you?! Ca--ind…”

Keith had next to no idea what Shiro was trying to tell him. The static was starting to make his ears ring. The blood seeping in between his fingers and onto the sand below him felt like too much. It definitely wasn’t healthy to bleed enough that he was making a gross, clumpy mess underneath his abdomen, was it? At the very least the sand was absorbing the blood, so he had that going for him. He was sure if it was pooling, he’d have a much harder time keeping his breakfast down.

Keith let out a painful, shuddering gasp. “Sh-Shiro...I...there was a sniper aiming for you. I-I got shot...god it fucking _hurts.”_ He squeezed his eyes shut, whining as a wave of agony pulsed from his gut. He really hoped the bullet hadn’t pierced any vital organs, otherwise, he was as good as dead out here.

“-ou? Can’t--ocation!”

Keith sucked in a deep breath that tasted dry and gross, trying to focus. ‘Ocation’ was probably supposed to be ‘location’ but assuming Keith’s voice was just as untranslatable on Shiro’s end, there wasn’t a lot of good of Keith telling him where he was.

But really, what other option did he have but to try?

“Big fort-looking thing,” Keith said, trying not to think about the wound. Or the blood. Or the pain. He failed miserably. “It’s...nearby where you were fighting that commander.” He paused, looking at the scarlet stains on the dunes and the entrance to his hideout. “I bled on the way in,” he added, hoping that would help.

There was a garbled noise that could have been Shiro saying “what?!” but also could have been Shiro affirming his location and coming his way, so Keith chose not to respond. He’d try again in a few minutes if Shiro didn’t show up.

“Oh _fuck!”_ He sucked in a huge breath through his teeth as he tried moving. Agony made him dizzy, blood spurting from the bullet wound. Keith literally _felt_ it splash against his hand, staining his fingers scarlet. Nausea clenched his throat tightly.

There were footsteps headed his way. Or maybe they were heading away from him? Keith really couldn’t tell anymore. He felt dizzy, the world blurring into a world of pastel yellows and grays. That probably wasn’t good, was it?

A figure appeared in the doorway of Keith’s tiny fort. They were dressed in black and white, Voltron’s insignia emblazoned proudly on the chest plate that was splattered with purple blood.

Keith blinked hard as Shiro gasped and hurried to him.

“Keith!” His voice was much easier to understand now that it was right in his ear, even if it was a bit loud. “What happened?!”

Keith gritted his teeth. He didn't feel like putting Shiro on a guilt-trip right now, (especially when Keith had thrown himself in the way of that sniper’s bullet intentionally) but knew he would press until Keith caved and told him.

“Sniper,” he said honestly as Shiro moved his hand to get a good look at the wound. Keith craned his neck to do the same. “They were a-aiming...f-for you. I-I jumped in...in the way.” He tried to say it all in one breath so it didn’t hurt as bad. Unfortunately, the next breath he sucked in hurt like _hell_ and he wished he hadn’t breathed in as deeply as he did.

The bullet shifted a little bit farther into his skin.

“A-A sniper?!” Shiro said, disbelief etched all over his face. “And you jumped in the way? Keith, what have we said about-”

“I know, I know,” Keith groaned. He was in no mood for a lecture right now. Especially not with a bullet currently having the time of its life making him bleed out on some stupid planet that made no fucking sense.

“God I-” Shiro sounded choked. His hands hovered hesitantly over the wound. It was puffy and red, blood leaking like a river out of either end and dripping down Keith’s sides. “I’m _so sorry,_ Keith I should have realized-” He cut himself off, realizing Keith had all but zoned out at this point. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, pain currently making everything else feel like background noise.

Keith was sorely tempted to just curl up and take a nice long nap. It sounded nice. He’d escape from everything - the planet, the battle, his wound.

His eyelids drooped.

Yeah. A nap. That sounded _wonderful_ right about now-

Agony, nothing like what he had been feeling thus far, shot through Keith like a hot knife. He let out a strangled scream, shooting back into the waking world in the worst way possible. Shiro looked at him through guilt-ridden eyes as Keith realized he was applying pressure to the bullet wound. With both hands.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro murmured over Keith’s heavy breathing. Keith could only whine in pain in response. Shiro reached forward, lifting one of his hands and brushed some of Keith’s hair out of his sweaty face. “I’ve sent out a distress signal since our comms don’t really work out here. Hang in there. I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

Keith couldn’t even speak anymore. He was so _tired_ and in so much _pain_ that he really couldn’t focus on anything else. Blood was leaking from in between Shiro’s fingers, overflowing and spilling over his knuckles the more pressure he applied. Keith found himself transfixed by the droplets of blood dripping onto sand.

Was...was all that _his?_

It couldn’t be, right? Humans couldn't bleed _that_ much. They’d be dead.

Keith felt his stomach clench around the bullet as he was hit by a wave of vertigo. Shiro’s face spun in his vision, twisting and warping to the point where it didn't even look like Shiro, just a very blurry afterimage.

“Breathe, Keith,” Shiro whispered. “Breathe. I’m right here. I’m right here. Stay awake. For me. Please.”

Oddly enough, Keith could feel the pain receding. It was now a dull throb at the back of his consciousness, like an annoying headache. _Wow,_ he was tired, but every time Keith’s eyelids fluttered, Shiro was quick to bring him back into the waking world by applying quick, sharp, _painful_ pressure to the wound.

“Shiro…” Keith murmured after Shiro brought him back from the brink again. “Shiro I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“Stay awake,” Shiro’s voice was little more than a plea. High-pitched and scared in a way Keith had never heard before. “ _Please,_ Keith. Stay awake.”

And he tried. He really did. He shook his head every time the first signs of darkness began creeping in on his vision. But soon, he found he couldn’t chase it away. It was still there every time he lay his head back against the fort’s wall.

The last thing Keith saw was Shiro’s concerned eyes as several other colors - blue, green, and yellow - all appeared around the fort wall. They carried blurry bags with them, clearly medicine tailored to his needs.

Keith let his eyelids fall shut as hands gripped him and lifted him, murmuring something about the Castle.

Keith knew then, though, that he was going to be all right.

And when he popped out of a pod four days later into Shiro’s awaiting arms, he was proven right. Shiro apologized endlessly into Keith’s hair, hugging the smaller boy like if he let go, Keith would disappear. Keith let him, gripping Shiro just as tightly. 

He didn't regret jumping in the way of that bullet. If he had to, he’d do it over and over again just to keep Shiro safe. He told Shiro that much in between other older boy's apologies and Shiro let out a watery laugh.

“I know,” he said, voice muffled by Keith’s hair. “I _know,_ Keith. And I’d do the same. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Keith whispered. He shut his eyes, relishing in his older brother’s embrace for just a little while longer. “Yeah, I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> A little fluff to end a angsty one-shot. 
> 
> I hope I wrote it okay! I was nervous about getting it right and had to do a bunch of research on it. I think it turned out pretty good in the end, though! I'm actually very proud of this! :D 
> 
> Anyways, this was prompted by an anon on tumblr, who asked that I'd make this for them. I hope this was in line with their expectations! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Drop a comment or a kudos if you did, I'd love to hear from you! 
> 
> If you'd like to see all of my prompts for Bad Things Happen Bingo, you can find them all [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/tagged/bad-things-happen-bingo)!


End file.
